Something like this:

Thursday, December 28, 2006

As many of you also know, I am fiercely protective of her. Woe be unto the poor creature that so much as makes her yelp. Many woes. Like, 42.

My protectiveness does not preclude me from mocking her, however. She has crazy big ears, and she leaves her tongue sticking out for no other reason than she forgot where it belongs. She falls for all of my card tricks. "Hey, Happy! Wanna play 52 Card Pick-Up? Bwa ha ha haha!

Monday, December 25, 2006

MARY TRYOUTS

Ah, the Christmas Pageant. It's that special time of year when all the pretty girls in church vie for the coveted role of Mary. Back in the day, I and the other choir boys would run an underground betting circle, taking odds for which Brittany or Dakota or Caitlyn would win it.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

KALLIPYGOS

My first nude - it's like an artistic Bar mitzvah.

This is my contribution to the eBay ACEO forum challenge, HEART. Supposedly, the heart shape as we know it is really a Greek representation of Aphrodite's beautiful behind. Sounds right to me. I mean, the valentine heart looks nothing like the organ that pumps blood through the body. Here is where I would make a blood-pumping-sexy-butt joke when I was a mere boy. Now, I've got to be a mature mensch.

This image, I should note, is inspired by a painting I found on this website dedicated to Mongolian art.

Let's see: I've got Greek, Jewish, and Mongolian cultures covered in this post. See how a derriere can bring people together?

Saturday, December 23, 2006

TITMOUSE

Titmouse: the bird that makes every adolescent chuckle like Beavis and Butthead.

I'll wait till you're done.

Out of your system yet? Good. Interesting Titmouse facts: they are cultural learners. For example, they learned how to open milk bottles to get at the cream back in the day of milk delivery. They also lower their body temperature on cold nights, going into what is called torpor. Basically, they're pretty much dead until morning. Their adrenaline acts as antifreeze. And they have specialized leg muscles that allows them to eat upside down.

Of course, I'm painting on paper, which comes from trees. With a brush with a wooden handle. Should I feel guilty? No. But that's another economics rant for another day. I'll talk about another hippie topic instead: PEACE.

Peace is acting without violence. Millions of people worked together peacefully to create this tree aceo. How did that happen? Trees were harvested to make the aforementioned paper and paint brush. Groups of people worked together to make the synthetic brush hairs, other groups got the metals out of the earth to make the thingy that holds the hairs in, still others put the brush together.

The paints were made in China by an English company. I've never been to either countries.

I bought the paper from someone on eBay, who I've never actually met. I bought the paint at a local store that offers me more art supplies I would ever know what to do with.

I'll (hopefully) sell this aceo to a customer who shall reap the rewards of millions of people's efforts. Millions of people, working together, without planning, in peace.

Hat tip to the late Milton Friedman, who describes this process better than I in his essay, I, Pencil.

Kitty hated taking school pictures. Not only would they not let him do the pose he wanted, but they wouldn't allow him to wear his grill. For the unaware, a grill (also called fronts) is a decorative gold mouthpiece. The kitty version isn't gold, but is rather an extension of the lower teeth, giving a feline an added menacing touch.

Schools don't allow grills in yearbook pictures, citing a correlation to gang activity. The real reason, in my opinion, is that they know the fashion will not stand the test of time, and are trying to save their students from future humiliation.

BUT, schools don't have as much control over the Senior pictures. So now kitty can pose as he wishes, and wear his special kitty grill. Ah, the freedom of burgeoning adulthood.

Friday, December 22, 2006

WISE KITTY

This Wise Kitty is in a rush - claws bared, he tries to spur his camel steed on his way to meet up with two other Wise Kitties. Making his way out of the Orient (Siam, if you please; or if you don't), carrying a gift of catnip for the newborn King of the Mews.

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

VARNISH TARNISH

You can't frost hot brownies. You can, but you'll have to offer them to your dinner guests as Abstract Brownies.

So here's an Abstract PaintingTM. I'm not going to lie to you: this was not how I expected it to turn out. I had made a cool little painting of an angry looking geisha type. It would have been a perfectly suitable addition to my FACES collection. And then I tried to emulate a certain popular aceo artist who shall remain nameless. All I will tell you his name rhymes with Lick Freezer.

I tried to add a glaze to gouache. Either it wasn't dry enough, or I was using the wrong glaze. As you can see, everything ran together. This is the result.

The real title, by the way, is RED LADY WITH FORKS STICKING OUT OF HER MINI-SATELLITE DISH HAIR-DO, but that won't fit.

This is a first for me. Oil, that is. It might be a last - talk about a high-maintenance medium.

This guy is sad because he is aware of his likely future of loneliness. I'm pretty much a watercolor or gouache painter. Occasionally acrylic. And you know what they say, oil and water don't mix. Or was it oil and vinegar? Wait, no, that's a salad dressing. My favorite kind, mind you. When I eat salads at all. But I digress.

Someday I'll do oils again. But I might need guidance. Like a class or something. Imagine that - actually learning about something before you try it. Do people actually do that?

Max Beckmann is one of those artists many people have said I should check out. Alright, already. I've checked him out. And, as usual, those people were right. Cool stuff. So here I offer up unto you, verily verily, my interpretation of Beckmann's Still Life with Three Skulls.

I suppose you could find a poster of this somewhere. If you bought that, you'd have a more accurate representation of the real thing. And it would be bigger. But, and I hate to be the one to break it to you, posters are tacky. And even though this aceo is a painting of someone else's work, it's realer art than a poster.

Just be happy that I didn't try to make it more my own by adding a naked Belly Punker.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

BUCKED

I'm a man of many passing fancies. Hobbies, if you will. Many of them are the type where using phrases like "passing fancies" could get you in trouble. Bull Riding is not, nor will it ever be, one of them.

If I ever did, however, this is a view I would probably get used to seeing.

They live around here, but I haven't seen one yet. The wife has. So this description is second hand.

They're huge. Their claws are huge. Their heads are huge. Their wings, all raggedy, are huge. The noise they make when pummeling square-shaped holes into trees is huge. They look like Pterodactyls. Small Pterodactyls, but Pterodactyls are ... er ... were really huge. Look, it's relative. Stop being so literal. You want literal? Fine. They're crow-sized.

And they're totally punk rock. If Johnny Rotten were a bird, he'd be a Pileated Woodpecker.

The owner refuses to trim this cat's nails because of one incredibly misguided reason: LONG NAILS SELL ART.

Think I'm kidding? Get on eBay and watch this item. Go ahead. Don't even bid, if you can control yourself. And this kitty suffers for it. He used to tread upon soft, cushy carpet, but his claws scratched it all away to the wood floor. Now his toes are cold in the morning. Way to go, cruel art collectors.

There is a way to save this kitty, of course. You could win the auction and give him a trim. Be warned, however: there are ne'er-do-wells about who wish to own this kitty themselves, just to bask in the glorious length of his nails. Make sure you have plenty of cashola in your paypal account.

Monday, December 11, 2006

WALKING THE CAT

This might take a little bit of explaining.

The Belly Punker needs some exercise. So he decides to take the cat out for walks. The thing is, Mrs. Belly Punker has spoiled the cat. When Mrs. Belly Punker walks the cat, she showers him with treats all the way. Now the cat won't budge without a treat. The Belly Punker, a strict disciplinarian, knows the rules: first exercise, then training, THEN reward. All thanks to the mighty Kitty Whisperer.

Anyway, what you see here is the war of wills. And the A-frame house I hope to one own. On the land near the mountains. With a big tree or six. And a bird feeder behind the house. With no property taxes. Or mortgage payments. What? Oh. Sorry. Drifted off for a minute there.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

MONGOLIAN HORSES

I was looking for inspiration for painting a horse. Horse-peration. I didn't want to just paint any old horse. So I went to the horse source: Mongolia. On the internets, of course. I'm poor. I can't just pick up and travel to Mongolia.

There's some amazing art coming out of Mongolia. I found quite a few images with horse subjects, of course of course (sorry, had to be done), that had an aesthetic that appealed to me. Here's a HarmoniousJosh-ified version of one of them.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

GUITARMAN

I recently went to go see Doc Watson in concert. This is not Doc, obviously. Only inspired by his flat-picking genius.

I went to the bar at the concert and asked for a Scott Adams. Scott Adams is the author of the comic strip, Dilbert. He has an excellent blog, at which I've apparently been spending too much time. He does not lend his name to any beer labels that neither I nor the bartender are aware of. Once we figured out my error, the rest of the transaction went smoothly.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

LADY CARDINAL

When we were living in Brooklyn, we had a view of both the Chrysler Building and the Empire State Building. When picking the favorite, the CB is the easy choice. But over time, the stateliness of the ESB grew on me. The same thing with the Northern Cardinal.

When we moved to NC, we were thrilled to see all of the cardinals (being the freakishly avid birdwatchers we are). The glowing red of the male cardinal was a real treat. But over time, as with the ESB, the female cardinal won us over.